I am a former navy seal who wishes to devote his life to the study and practice of criminal law. It is my sincere desire as a soldier to defend veterans from criminal charges and to help them rebuild their lives. I feel strongly that my rigorous training as a navy seal has enabled me to cultivate the discipline that will help me be a very hardworking, patient, and effective criminal attorney.

I began hallucinating early that Thursday morning. My team and I were halfway finished with what our instructors dubbed “The Long Paddle,” and I could feel my sanity slowly slipping away. A combination of severe sleep deprivation and extreme physical exercise can do that to you. I had not had more than three hours of sleep since “Hell week” had begun on Sunday afternoon. As I looked around me, I contemplated the extent of my delirium. I was reasonably sure that the Statue of Liberty did not belong in San Diego, and I doubted that the tigers I could see racing along the river shore were real. My ears picked up the sound of our boat’s leader having a heated argument with Jenkins, but Jenkins had quit the team two weeks ago.

Looking around me, I felt reassured seeing the confused expressions on my teammates’ faces. Even though I was stuck in a tiny inflatable boat with six potential lunatics, I at least knew that I was not the only one being affected by the exercise—Hell week. I had been through some incarnation of it during each year of my life, ever since peewee football. But no previous “hell” could compare to the punishment that the United States Navy dishes out during Basic Underwater Demolition/SEAL Training (BUD/S). Hell week marks the sixth week of BUD/S, and is a six-day celebration of misery designed to eliminate weak candidates. Only the strong can survive it.

This year’s week of torment was heightened by an untimely cold spell; more than two-thirds of our original class had already quit. Running on soft sand beaches while wearing combat boots, getting a facemask full of salt water while lugging twin steel scuba tanks on your back, being soaking wet and covered with sand… these are enough to make most people question their desire to finish the program. But it was the cold that claimed the most victims. We shivered through the nights and well into the mornings, the chill of the air seeping into our very bones. Visions of hot meals and warm beds haunted us; we knew that ending the suffering and the cold was as easy as quitting the program. And leaving was so very east. Simply stand in front of your classmates and ring a silver ship’s bell three times… the temptation was nearly irresistible. But I had set a goal for myself, and I knew, even amid that Thursday morning delirium, that giving up was not an option.

The BUD/S program had already made a marked difference in my life. When I first decided to become a frogman, I was not a gifted swimmer or an accomplished distance runner, and I had a slight fear of heights. Throughout my training, however, I routinely swam six miles into the open ocean and ran upwards of fifteen miles on land, and had jumped out of an airplane more than once. Moreover, I gained a sense of confidence in my ability to set and attain goals. I learned that virtually any challenge could be overcome by defining clear objectives, understanding the qualities needed to achieve them, and then systematically overcoming weaknesses and complementing strengths to best approach the task.

For many months I agonized over the decision to attend law school. At this point in my life, I seem to have all I need: a comfortable house in the suburbs, a happy marriage, and a beautiful daughter. My career as an accountant is pleasant, leaving me enough free time to pursue my hobbies. In short, I could have simply sailed happily through life toward my eventual retirement party. But I realized that to do so would be to set a severe limit upon my potential. I require constant, arduous challenges that demand all of my resources, both physical and mental. I want to contribute more to the world than simply capitalizing on my current company’s success.

I understand fully the rigors associated with studying law, and I am prepared to dedicate as much time as it takes to understand its theories and practices. Certain qualities distinguish a superior law school graduate: dedication to the pursuit of knowledge, the ability to argue and defend an opinion effectively, and the skills to plan, research, and execute a watertight case. These qualities are vital to law, and can also reap extensive rewards in many other areas of life. I am ready, willing, and prepared to accept the challenges I will face during law school, and I look forward to forging a successful career, both as a student and as an attorney.